Grief
by Ginomo
Summary: How will Worf deal with the sudden death of his beloved wife?
1. Chapter 1

" **Grief"**

 **By: Ginomo**

 _Takes place during and in the direct aftermath of "Tears of the Prophets." A scene I wrote in my story "Zhin'tara" inspired this one. 20 years of writing Worf and Dax fanfic and I have never taken on the days following her death. So, here it is!_

* * *

Jadzia Dax turned over in bed, hoping to steal a little more sleep before she and her husband had to get up and start this hectic day. She reached for him but felt only empty sheets and blankets.

"Computer, time."

" _The time is 0217 hours._ "

Dax squinted towards the window of her bedroom. In the darkness she could see her husband's shadowy figure standing before the oval window, his arms folded, and his gaze fixed on the black sky.

"Worf? What are you doing awake already?"

"I could not sleep," he replied quietly.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she sat up.

"I did not mean to disturb you, go back to sleep."

"I will, if you come back to bed…"

Worf sighed but did not move.

Something was wrong. Jadzia tossed aside the blanket and padded on bare feet to where he stood. She sat on the windowsill and reached up to touch his hair as it hung across his shoulders, "You usually sleep soundly the night before a battle."

"This night is… different."

"How so?"

"I do not know."

"Do you have a bad feeling about invading Cardassia? The fact that it's happening sooner than we planned and that I'm stuck here on the station is certainly bothering me."

"No," Worf answered quickly, "No, I cannot tell you how relieved I am that you are _not_ going. That you will be safe here on DS9 is the only good thing about all this."

Jadzia frowned, "You love it when we fight side by side. When it comes down to it, no one is going to have your back the way I will."

"I know that, but," Worf looked at his beautiful wife, her face lit only by the stars, "I have faced death more times than I can count, and I have never backed down from it. There were times when I would have even welcomed it. My life never meant enough to me that I would have missed it if it ended."

"And now?"

"Now," he paused, "I have you."

Jadzia understood what was wrong. Worf was, probably for the first time in his life, scared to go into a battle. It wasn't his own life he feared for, but the life they had together. He finally had something to lose and the prospect of that was overwhelming. It was a perfectly normal feeling for anyone else, but for him it was about as unsettling as he could imagine. She knew her husband well enough to know that words were not what he needed right now.

Dax stood, wrapped her arms around him and brought her face close to his, "Yes, you have me. And I have you. Nothing's going to change that." Worf's arms tightened around her waist as their lips met. There was a desperation in the way he kissed her, as if he wasn't sure it would ever happen again. Jadzia reached for the bottom of his shirt and pulled her lips from his just long enough to slide it up over his head. He did the same with her nightgown. Worf sometimes felt as if he had to share too much of his wife with the many people in her life but this part of her, this was all his.

As his strong hands lifted her with ease, Jadzia wrapped her bare legs around him. In rhythmic motions, the cool surface of the window pressed against her back as the warmth of her husband's body pressed against her front. She knew her husband well enough to know this was what he needed. He needed _her_.

* * *

"If you ask me, it's an ungodly hour to go to war. You can quote me on that," Chief O'Brien said as he gripped his mug of coffee."

"I will," Jake replied with a smirk.

Miles turned towards Dax as they walked through the corridors of DS9 towards the Defiant's airlock, "Oh Jadzia, will you look in on Keiko and the kids while I'm gone?"

"You can count on it," Dax replied, her hands tightly clasped behind her back.

"And, try to keep Julian out of trouble," he added.

She smiled, "Now that's pushing."

O'Brien stepped into the airlock, along with Jake.

"It's your station, Old Man," Captain Sisko quipped.

"I'll take good care of her," Kira was the next to make her way down the corridor, with Worf right on her heels, "Give my best to the Jem'Hadar," Dax said to the Major.

"Oh, I'll do that," Nerys paused, "Said a prayer at the shrine last night for the two of you."

Jadzia gasped, "About having a baby?"

"The Prophets can be helpful in such matters," She replied, placing a warm hand on Jadzia's arm.

"I hope they're listening," Jadzia said with a hopeful breath.

Major Kira Nerys gave her a smile and stepped into the airlock, leaving Jadzia alone with her husband, "Did you hear that?" Jadzia draped her arm over his shoulder, "We have the prophets on our side."

"According to Dr. Bashir we need all the help we can get."

"Just remember when you get back we have a lot of work to do," Dax said with that sly smirk Worf loved so much.

"I don't consider that work," Worf replied, returning her smile.

The memory of how they spent their morning made her blush. But that feeling quickly turned to a knot in her stomach, "Wish I was going with you."

"You are," Worf touched the center of his chest, "In here."

Jadzia looked into her husband's eyes. This was the side of himself that he saved just for her, and she somewhat selfishly loved that. Beneath the exterior he showed everyone else was man who loved more deeply than anyone she'd ever known, "I love it when you get romantic."

Just as they had only a few hours ago, Jadzia settled into her husband's embrace, except this time their uniforms were between them. Worf rarely kissed her in public so she knew he must still be feeling some anxiety about this whole thing. She knew that there was nothing she could say to change that, so she didn't. When their kiss ended she tenderly, she touched his lips with her fingertips. Their road to get to this point had been rough, but in this moment Jadzia knew she'd made the right choice, she knew she wanted nothing more than to love this man for the rest of her days.

Worf stepped into the airlock and the heavy gear rolled shut behind him.

* * *

"Worf, I need to talk to you about something,"

Worf nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck and kissed the delicate skin there, "We are talking."

Jadzia giggled, "This is serious, you've got to listen."

"I'm listening," he mumbled, all the while still kissing her spots.

Playfully she hit his arm, "No you're not."

Worf sat up, "Alright, you have my attention."

The two were sitting on the couch in Jadzia's quarters, Jadzia resting comfortably in Worf's arms. They'd been separated for months while the Dominion and Cardassians were occupying DS9- Worf had been assigned to the Rotarran and Jadzia was on the Defiant. Now they were finally back together and hadn't stopped celebrating.

"I have been trying to find a time to talk to you about this," she sighed, "With our wedding coming, we need to talk about."

Worf could hear the change in her tone, "What is it?"

"I'm a joined Trill…"

"Yes, I know."

"And I swore a vow that my responsibility as a host would take precedence over anything else in my life."

Worf narrowed his eyes, "Yes…"

"As my husband, if something ever happens to me, you are responsible for making decisions for me, and for Dax."

Worf was silent. He knew where this was going.

"If ever a choice must be made, Dax comes first. If somethings happens and you have to decide for me, remove the symbiont so that Dax can live on."

Worf's throat was tight, "Jadzia, I… I cannot…"

She looked Worf in the eyes, "I have to know that you will. If we are to be married, I have to know that you understand this. You have asked me to accept a whole host of things related to your culture, and I have. I need this from you," she paused, " _Dax_ comes first."

Worf swallowed, the nodded, "Dax comes first."

She reached out and hugged him, "Odds are you will never have to worry about this. I just had to put it out there, you know?"

Worf nodded again, "I understand."

"Good," she smiled, "Now you can go back to telling me which one of my spots is your favorite."

* * *

The mood on the bridge of the Defiant was exuberant. The first wave of their invasion of Cardassia had been a success, the orbital weapons platforms guarding the border to Cardassian space had been destroyed. It came at a heavy cost, especially to the Klingon portion of the task force, but their losses were not in vain. This was the kind of victory the Alpha Quadrant Alliance needed.

Unfortunately, the celebrations were short lived.

"Major," Chief O'Brien began, "We're receiving a priority one transmission from Deep Space Nine," he paused, "It's from Julian."

"What does it say?" Major Kira asked.

Miles scanned it, then looked at her with wide eyes. Kira crossed the Defiant's bridge to his station and read the message over O'Brien's shoulder. They both looked at each other with stunned expressions, and then across the bridge to Lieutenant Commander Worf.

"Worf," Kira managed to choke out. She opened her mouth to say more, but no words came. Worf rose to his feet and came to where they were. He read the message on the screen.

 _Jadzia has been injured and is going into surgery_. _Her condition is critical._

Worf narrowed his eyes, read it again, then looked at the two of them, "I do not understand…"

Kira could see the disbelief on his face, "Helm," she said aloud, "Set a course for the station, maximum warp."

Everyone else on the bridge exchanged confused glances, but whatever that message said it was obviously grave enough to warrant a complete about face, "Aye, Sir. Course laid in," Nog replied.

Worf turned to go back to his station, took a few steps, and froze in his tracks. Jadzia was safe on the station, he was supposed to be the one in danger. What could have possibly happened?

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, "Go to your quarters, Commander, we've got the bridge."

Worf did not object.

* * *

It was as if he was moving through water. His legs were heavy, like they were weighted down. His body was numb. He tried to run but he could not move fast enough. People crowded around the airlock. They were in his way. Worf pushed through them. The infirmary was so far away. Each step took an eternity. The voices around him were deafening. The lights were blinding. Where was the infirmary? Where was she?

He entered. Where was she? A Bajoran nurse was speaking to him but he could not hear her. Where was she? Finally, the woman stopped trying to talk and instead took Worf's hand. She pulled at him like a child. He followed her into a darkened room. His head turned. Dr. Bashir was placing a slug-like organism into a stasis chamber. Worf was moving through water. Weights pulled at his legs. Every nerve in his body was numb. Where was she?

And then he saw her. She was alone. Lying there, in the center of the room. Why were they walking away from her? Why weren't they helping her? Her eyes were closed. Every nerve in his body was numb.

Suddenly, her eyes fluttered open, "Worf," she whispered.

Worf rushed to her side and took her hand in his, "I am here," he managed to say, and then called out, "Nurse!"

"No," she whispered, "We don't have much time."

There was so much that he wanted to say but no words came. Worf pressed his face into her hand, trying to make sense of all this. How could this have happened?

"I'm sorry," he heard her whisper.

Worf raised his head to look at her face. He had looked upon death enough in his life to recognize it, "Save your strength."

She did the opposite. Jadzia used what little was left in her to reach up and touch her husband's face one last time, "Our baby… would have been so beautiful."

Jadzia's eyes fluttered again, and then closed.

Worf could feel it rising in his chest as if by instinct, by sheer unconscious will of his body. He didn't want to. But half of his heart lay dead before him, and there was nothing he could do but cry out. Cry out in agony, cry out in anger, cry out to the heavens with a sound that shook the station.

All their friends were there, with looks of horror and disbelief on their faces. The sound of Worf's roar was deafening, and they all knew what it meant. Worf came stumbling out of the surgery room, his head swimming. He paused and looked at all those faces. They were quiet, none of them knowing what to say and all of them afraid to say the wrong thing. Worf stood there for a brief moment looking back at them. He hated them all. He hated the sad looks on their faces, the tears flowing from their eyes. Most of all, he hated them for being alive when she was not.

"Worf…" Kira started to reach for him.

He could not bear to hear her say how sorry she was, to listen to each of them say all those things people said to the living when they had no idea what they should be saying. Worf took a few steps backwards, towards the door. And then he disappeared.

* * *

 _ **Hope you enjoyed Chapter 1. Please review!**_


	2. Chapter 2

" **Grief"**

 **By: Ginomo**

 _Takes place during and in the direct aftermath of "Tears of the Prophets" with a few flashback scenes to events earlier in Worf's life. A scene I wrote in my story "Zhin'tara" inspired this one. 20 years of writing Worf and Dax fanfic and I have never taken on the days following her death. So, here it is!_

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Worf stopped by the USS Enterprise's schoolroom to pick up Alexander on his way back to Ambassador K'Ehleyr's quarters. The boy was a curious child; always full of questions and tonight was no different. This time, Alexander asked him about all the swords that Worf had and if he could see him use them again, "When we have more time I will take you to the holodeck and demonstrate in more detail," Worf said to Alexander as they turned the last corner.

K'Ehleyr had only been on the ship for a few days, but already Worf was settling into a routine of spending time with her and her son at the end of the day. He'd gotten so comfortable with coming over that once he arrived at her door he let himself in.

And then he saw her.

K'Ehleyr's body lay limply over a chair in her quarters. There had obviously been a fight of some sort; things were in disarray, a table was broken and there was blood. So much blood.

"Medical Emergency. Deck 8, room 142."

Worf rushed to her side and gently turned her body over. K'Ehleyr was still alive, but barely. Her breathing was shallow and her blood-stained body felt weak. Worf cradled her in his arms as carefully as he could. Alexander stood next to them, looking at his mother with innocent and confused eyes.

"Gowron?" Worf asked her quietly.

K'Ehleyr managed to shake her head and whisper, "No,"

Worf could feel rage build inside him, "Duras." The name was like a curse on his lips.

"Alexander," K'Ehleyr reached towards her son and took his hand. With her last bit if strength, she placed it in Worf's.

Worf watched helplessly as K'Ehleyr's eyelids closed and her head slumped to the side, "No, K'Ehleyr..." his normally strong voice was a whimper as he shook her in his arms, hoping against all hope to wake her.

It was no use, "K'Ehleyr!" Worf could feel the life leaving his par'machai. Instinctively, Worf looked to the heavens and howled. It was a horrible sound, filled with rage, sadness, pain and regret. The sounds scared Alexander and he ran away back toward the doorway.

Worf sat her body down softly. This could not be happening. He stumbled backwards as he tried to stand and stared at her in disbelief. After a moment, he looked down at the confused and afraid child, the son he could not claim.

"You have never seen death?"

Alexander shook his head.

"Then look. And always remember."

* * *

The door chime sounded for a third time. Still no answer.

"I know you're in there. Either you let me in or I'll get Constable Odo to open the door."

Alexander Rozhenko could hear sounds coming from inside the quarters. The door slid open and the sight before him was startling. His long brown hair hung raggedly across his shoulders, his usually trim beard was overgrown, and his uniform was at least 3 days overdue for cleaning.

"Father?"

"What are you doing here?" Worf's already gruff voice was hoarse, as if he hadn't used it in a long time. That, or he'd been yelling.

Alexander didn't answer. Instead he pushed passed his father and into the room. Worf was the neatest person he knew, yet this place was a wreck. Most of the furniture was overturned and there were bottles and cups strewn about. The smell of bloodwine was strong, that plus the smell of his father himself. It was obvious that he hadn't bothered bathing since he'd locked himself in here. Everything was a mess- everything except for a neat row of shelves on the far wall. Alexander knew those were Jadzia's books and other items she'd collected over the years.

Alexander set his pack on the floor and sighed. Worf was going through the few parts of the room he hadn't ransacked like a squirrel looking for his winter store.

"Father, what are you doing?"

From a storage crate, Worf pulled out a bottle. He pulled the cork, took a long drink and sighed deeply. Then he lied down on the floor and closed his eyes.

"Dr. Bashir called me, and my captain granted me leave. I got here as soon as I could."

Worf said nothing.

"They need you to make some decisions about her," Alexander paused, "About her final arrangements."

Worf opened his eyes briefly, looked at his son blankly, then closed them again.

Alexander Rozhenko and his father had a rocky history, to say the least. One of his first memories of his father was when the two of them stood over his mother's dead body. Ironically, it was in a room that looked a lot like this one. When that happened, Worf sprang into action, moving immediately to avenge her death. This man before him- drunk, unwashed and writhing on the floor, was a shell of who had been that day.

"General Martok is on his way as well. I can't imagine you want him seeing you like this."

"I do not care," Worf finally replied.

Alexander stood, "Well I do. I'll take care of her funeral. If there's anything you want, say it now," the young man said definitively.

"The body is merely a shell," Worf managed to say, "Let them do what they want and then send it back to Trill to her family."

"Thank you," he said, "I will tell the others. Then I'm coming back," he paused, "You could shower, you know."

Nothing.

Alexander sighed, and then let himself out.

* * *

When Alexander returned that night, the door was thankfully unlocked. And Worf was even up off the floor. His father was sitting at the dining table with his back to the door. It didn't look like he'd cleaned himself up at all but at least he was upright, maybe even eating.

"Father, you're up," Alexander walked over to the table, "All the arrangements have been made, Jadzia's memorial will be tomorrow morning at 0900. That gives you time to get a good night's sleep and get yourself-" Alexander looked at his father's face and froze , "Father..."

Worf was holding his d'k tagh dagger, the point of the blade at his own throat.

"Father," Alexander sat down slowly across from him, "What are you doing?"

"I cannot go on. I cannot."

"You're going to kill yourself? If you do, you'll never see Jadzia again, you'll never see mother, never see your parents. You'll spend eternity with the dishonored dead."

"You," Worf locked his bloodshot eyes with his son's, "You can do it."

Alexander's mouth dropped open, "You can't be serious."

"I deserve it," Worf growled.

Alexander shook his head, "This is crazy. You aren't yourself right now. Why aren't you out there looking for someone to kill or something? Why are you doing this?"

"I have nothing more to live for."

"You have me."

Worf still hadn't moved the knife from this throat, "I have been a horrible father to you."

"Maybe, but you're my father and I'm your son. When my mother died, she placed my hand in yours. With her dying breath she trusted you to care for me. And Jadzia worked to bring us back together after years of being apart. Asking me to end your life so you can skulk off to Sto'Vo'Kor is," Alexander summoned all his courage, "It's cowardly."

Worf's face did not change, "You are trying to wound pride that I no longer have."

"This is ridiculous," Alexander stood, "What do you want me to do? No, don't answer that. You want me to kill you. You spent my entire childhood telling me stories about Klingon honor and strength. I don't remember a single one of them ending in a father asking his son to kill him just because he's sad."

"Get out," Worf growled.

"What?"

Worf stood. Though his son had grown quite a bit, Worf still had a few centimeters on him. He looked down at Alexander, "I said get out."

Alexander didn't say anything else. He wasn't giving up on his father, but he knew he'd need some help.

* * *

"Worf!"

General Martok didn't ring the chime, instead he pounded on the door.

"Worf, I'll break this damned thing down if you don't open it!"

He was about to do just that when he realized the door wasn't locked. Martok stepped inside and couldn't believe what he saw. Worf was the orderly to a fault but right now the place was still a mess. Worf, however, was nowhere in sight.

"Worf!" Martok bellowed, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you myself!"

Martok entered the bedroom where he found his friend lying face down and passed out on the floor. Martok rolled him over, Worf was clutching something in his hand. Martok reached down and took it- it was their wedding photo.

Martok sighed, "Wake up, Worf."

He didn't.

Martok reached for the nearest half-filled glass of blood wine- there were quite a few to choose from- and threw it in Worf's face. He jerked up suddenly, sputtering and wiping the wine from his eyes.

"What…"

"Where were you this morning?" Martok demanded.

"This morning?" Worf asked.

"Yes! 0900 hours. I had to speak at your own wife's funeral on your behalf."

Worf stood and stumbled into the bathroom. He splashed water on his face for the first time in days, "Klingons don't have funerals."

"Jadzia was not a Klingon. And hearing what everyone had to say about her was-"

"I do not need to hear other people tell me how wonderful my wife was," Worf snapped.

Martok folded his arm and gave a hard look to his friend, "You dishonored her by not being there. You dishonor her by doing whatever _this_ is. And Alexander tells me you asked him to kill you?"

"The Mauk-to-Vor is a perfectly acceptable death ritual."

"You did not lose your honor, Worf. You lost your wife."

" _Honor brings little comfort to a man alone in his heart_ ," Worf repeated the words Martok told him on the eve of his wedding, "Without her I have nothing."

Martok sighed, "Worf, you have saved me from myself more than once. From when we were in that damnable Dominion prison camp to my first mission on the Rotarran, you have put yourself in harm's way to save me. Because of that, I owe it to you to see you through this. Jadzia was a glorious woman, we all know-"

"No one knows her the way I did!"

"Of course, Worf," he continued, "But warriors die every day, it is a part of who we are. You have seen the casualty lists from this war, you have seen the names go on and on," Martok stepped towards Worf, as if he were challenging him, "Husbands, wives, sons and daughters. All leaving behind grieved loved ones to continue on. Tell me, Worf, what makes your loss greater than theirs?" he growled.

"Do you know how she died?" Worf asked quietly.

"I have heard."

"She did not die triumphantly in battle. Nor did she die an old woman with a long life to celebrate. She died for nothing at all."

"Does wasting away bring her the glory she deserves? Does it bring her back to you?"

Worf had no answer. He pushed past Martok, picked up the nearest cup and choked down the wine.

Martok followed him, "So what do you plan to do then? Stay in here forever? Drink yourself to death? Tell me so I can let Captain Sisko know that he needs to replace you."

Worf sat, burying his head in his hands, "I have admired you since the moment we met at that prison camp. You are the type of man I had always hoped to be. But I am not as strong as you. I am weak and broken. If I did anything to save you, it was because you deserved it. I… I do not," he paused, then looked up at the man who'd become his best friend, "Go. There is nothing left here."


	3. Chapter 3

" **Grief"**

 **By: Ginomo**

 _Takes place during and in the direct aftermath of "Tears of the Prophets" with a few flashback scenes to events earlier in Worf's life. A scene I wrote in my story "Zhin'tara" inspired this one. 20 years of writing Worf and Dax fanfic and I have never taken on the days following her death. So, here it is!_

 **Chapter 3**

Alexander had been to Deep Space Nine many times, but he'd never been to Ops. Yet today, he was making his way to the Captain's- or was it the Major's?- office. Major Kira Nerys needed to speak with him immediately and he had a feeling he knew what it was about.

When Alexander arrived, Dr. Julian Bashir was there as well.

"Major, you asked to see me?" Alexander began quietly as he stood in the doorway.

"Yes, please have a seat," Kira said with a nervous smile.

He sat and waited. Kira and Bashir exchanged worried looks before she began, "Alexander, I cannot tell you how much I hate to have to even have the discussion with you," she sighed, more awkward glances with the doctor, "Dr. Bashir had an… unsettling run in with your father that has caused us some concern."

Alexander turned to Bashir, "You saw my father?"

"Well, no, I did not," the Doctor began, "I did go to his quarters this morning. As the Chief Medical Officer it is my duty to ensure the health of all the officers on the station. Worf hasn't been out of his quarters and hasn't been seen by anyone-"

"I have seen him," Alexander replied defensively, "As has General Martok."

"There have been reports that he is not… that he is not handling Jadzia's death well."

"Reports by whom?" His guard was still up. The last thing Worf would have wanted was people talking about his mental state.

Kira could see that the young man was understandably defensive about his father, "We are only concerned about how Commander Worf is doing. When Doctor Bashir went to check on him, Worf told him in no uncertain terms that he would not see him or anyone else"

"He said that if I stepped one foot into he and his wife's home he'd rip every limb from my body," Bashir said bluntly, "Needless to say, I chose not to test his resolve."

"I am sorry, Doctor, I can assure you that he did not mean it. He just needs a little more time."

"That's just it, we don't have time," Kira replied, "Jadzia is gone, Captain Sisko is on leave indefinitely and Worf hasn't come out of his quarters since she died. I have been promoted temporarily but there is a war going on and Starfleet wants these positions filled ASAP," she sighed, "As insensitive as this might sounds, we need him ready to get back to work."

"It pains me to have to say this," Bashir began gently, "But if Worf continues on like this I will have no choice but to relieve him of duty and put him on mandatory personal leave until he can work through what has happened. Perhaps even find a place for him to go to get better."

"No," Alexander shook his head, "That would kill him. His career is all he has left."

"Which is why we asked you here," Kira continued, "Is there anything that you can think of, anyone that he'd be willing to talk to? Believe me, I don't want Dr. Bashir to do this any more than you do."

"But it is my duty," Julian reminded them both, "I need him to agree to at least see a counselor."

Alexander sat quietly for a moment before speaking, "A counselor… okay," he sighed, "I have an idea. And if this doesn't work, I don't know what will."

Kira nodded, "Thank you."

* * *

Commander William T. Riker of the U.S.S Enterprise stood anxiously as he watched her walk back and forth across her quarters as she placed items in her bag, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course it is, Will, I can't believe you're even asking that." Counselor Deanna Troi replied.

"Then at least let me take you. This is no time for you to be in a shuttle by yourself heading off to the most dangerous part of the quadrant."

"That's really not necessary," Deanna replied, "My shuttle will rendezvous with USS Aventine on her way to Deep Space Nine. I'll only be by myself for less than 12 hours."

"A lot can happen in 12 hours. Especially during a war."

"Worf needs me, and I'm going. I _have_ to go. You, on the other hand, are needed here. I don't know how long I'll be on Deep Space Nine and it would be a waste of your time sitting around the station waiting for me."

He didn't want her to go. He'd order to stay here if she hadn't already gotten permission from Captain Picard. He could never admit it out loud but this wasn't just about the danger of her flying alone in wartime, this was mostly about who she was going to see and why. Will knew there had been something between Deanna and Worf back when he was the security officer on the Enterprise. Granted that was years ago, before he was a commander on DS9 and certainly before he was married. But now Worf was mourning the loss of his wife, and of course Deanna had to be the one to help him through it. Riker never knew exactly why their relationship ended, but if ever a situation lent itself to things rekindling, it was this one.

Of course, Will seemed to forget that trying to hide his feelings from Deanna was pointless. She was an empath, capable of sensing emotions in most humanoids. Her connection to Will was especially strong, and right now he was a mess of anxiety, fear and jealousy. Troi smirked to herself. _Good_ , she thought, _Let him be jealous_.

"After this mission is over," Riker said, "The Enterprise will make its way to the Bajoran sector. I'll make sure that we come get you ourselves, no shuttle rendezvous."

She closed her pack and slung it over her shoulder, "I'm sure you will. Now, walk me to the shuttle bay."

* * *

"Deanna!"

Counselor Troi made her way through the airlock and onto station Deep Space Nine. Waiting there to greet her was someone she hadn't seen in years, Alexander Rozhenko. A huge smile formed on her face, "Alexander? That can't be you!?"

"I suppose I have grown a bit."

The voice that came out of his mouth was that of an adult and not a child. She couldn't believe it. She'd heard that Klingon youths physically mature faster than most humanoids and the results of that were startling. Before her was a young man and not the boy she remembered. Nevertheless, she reached out and they hugged each other tightly, "A bit? You're a grown man now! I bet you're almost as tall as your father."

He laughed, "Not quite. But give me another year. How was your trip?"

"Uneventful. Which is a very good thing these days."

"I cannot thank you enough for getting here so quickly."

"Nothing would have kept me from it. When I got your message I went right to Captain Picard and told him that I _would_ be coming. I should have just made arrangements to come as soon as I saw Commander Dax's name on the weekly casualty list."

"I have never seen him like this," Alexander said as they walked through the corridors, "Of course, I was very young when mother died and I don't remember what that was like for him. But from what everyone tells me, it was nothing like this. Dr. Bashir is threatening to relieve him of duty and maybe even commit him due to his…" Alexander could barely choke out the words, "His mental state."

Deanna nodded, "Your father does a very good job of keeping his emotions reigned in tightly. But they are there and they're strong and deep. That something like this caused him to lose the firm grasp he keeps on himself is not surprising at all," she sighed, "I just hope that I am able to help him. It has been a very long time."

"I could think of no one else. If you can't… I don't know what I will do."

She nodded as they rounded another corner, "Are things still as they were in your message?"

"Yes. He has locked himself in his quarters. He's drinking a lot, not eating, not sleeping but not really waking either. He refuses to see anyone but me, and even then he doesn't really _see_ me, he just doesn't threaten to kill me when I enter like he does everyone else."

"Oh dear…"

"He would never hurt you, I am sure of that."

"And…" Alexander hesitated to tell her this but figured she needed the whole story to be effective, "He tried to get me to kill him."

Deanna gulped. In her heart she felt the same way, but then again she'd never dealt with a Klingon experiencing a mental breakdown either.

"Dr. Bashir arranged for quarters for you near Father while you're here. Would you like to go there first?"

"No, take me to Worf," she said, _Before I lose my nerve_.

* * *

Deanna told Alexander she wanted to go in alone. The son of Worf didn't advise that, but he ultimately gave in. He told her to contact him, or station's security, immediately if she needed help. She told him she knew she'd be fine and convinced herself of it as well. Alexander keyed in the entry code to his father's quarters and she stepped in.

Immediately, Deanna was hit was a wave of emotion that nearly brought her to her knees. For the empath, it was like entering a room filled with deafening sounds and blinding lights. It was overwhelming, he had to grip the back of a nearby chair and take deep breaths to collect herself. Tears formed in her eyes, she couldn't see Worf, but she could feel him. Anguish, grief, pain, despair, it was all that and more. She'd been in situations like this once or twice before, but not with just a single person.

"I'm too late," she whispered to herself.

Just then, he was standing there. Worf could hear that someone had come in and figured it was Alexander, everyone else had stopped trying, thank the gods. When he saw who was standing in his home, Worf's mouth fell open.

"Deanna?" his voice was barely audible.

"Yes. It's me."

"What are you doing here?"

"Alexander called me, he's very worried about you. Though I would have come regardless."

"I told him to forget about me," Worf replied. Despite what she could feel, Worf's voice was completely without affect.

"He is your son."

Worf said nothing.

For once, the counselor had no idea what to say or how to begin. She knew that Worf valued honesty and directness so she decided to lead with that, "They're threatening to relieve you of duty, Worf."

"Bashir?" Worf stumbled over to his couch and fell into it, "I would like to see him try. He loved her, you know. Loved her long before me. And he let her die on his operating table."

"I didn't know that."

"He wanted her. She was glorious in every way and she was mine. He'd rather see her die than be with me and have my child."

 _Had she been pregnant_? Deanna asked herself, "I know you don't really believe that, Worf."

He didn't. But he needed someone to blame.

Deanna gingerly sat on the edge of the chair across from him, "I'm sorry I wasn't able to know her for myself."

"I am sorry that she ever met me. She would be alive had she not."

Deanna didn't know enough of the details surrounding Commander Dax's death to know whether or not that was true. The report simply said that she'd been attacked in the Bajoran Temple and died from her injuries later that day. What mattered most was that Worf believed it.

"Tell me about her."

Worf closed his eyes, "I cannot."

Deanna decided on a riskier approach, "You can't or you won't?"

"Counselor, I understand what you are trying to do and out of the respect I have for you I will say that I appreciate the gesture. I am sorry you came all this way, but I have no desire to be _counseled_ through this."

She looked squarely at the man before her. His head was leaned back as he stared up at the ceiling blankly. His hair hung wildly across his shoulders and he was only wearing the black pants and gray undershirt of his uniform, "Then what do you want? To die? For your son to kill you?" Troi asked directly.

"Perhaps. But for now I want you to go. And to not return."

With that, Worf stood and went back into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Deanna told herself that having some kind of complete breakthrough on the first visit was unrealistic. That he actually spoke to her and didn't threaten to kill her just for entering was a good thing. But still she felt like a failure.

Her next plan of action was to do a little research. She knew very little about the woman Worf had married, and Troi figured that learning more about Jadzia Dax would help. She decided to start with the one thing Worf did revel during their brief meeting- Dr. Bashir had been in love with her as well.

"Counselor Troi, it is a pleasure to meet you," the Doctor greeted her warmly when she entered the infirmary, "Please, let's step back into my office," he'd been expecting her visit this morning.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Doctor. I can't imagine how busy the CMO must be on a station this size. I read that the station can house 7,000 residents."

"It can, however we only average around three to four thousand on any given day. One would think the war would cause that number to go down but it's been just the opposite. Lots of families' of deployed officers have moved here, the Klingon presence here has grown and I suspect we'll have more Romulans showing up as well with that new alliance," Bashir paused, "I suppose you're right, it is a lot to manage."

She sat and looked around the small space he'd carved out at the rear of the infirmary to serve as his office, "And you have been here since the Federation took command?"

"I have. I was one of the original Starfleet officers assigned to DS9 along with Captain Sisko, Chief O'Brien… and Commander Dax."

Deanna felt a wave of sadness come over him. As it was, she could sense that he was barely holding himself together. It was obvious that he felt a profound sense of duty and obligation to this place and its crew. What he was trying to hide was what he felt for Dax. _He must know I'm an empath_ , she thought.

"Well, I don't want to waste your time. I'm here to help Worf, which in turn helps everyone here get back to the business of defending this station."

"Yes, he is an integral part of the crew. He commands the Defiant, he's our liason to the Klingon Empire and the Major wants to make him acting first officer," he paused, measuring his words, "He has a lot of responsibilities. Which is why as the Chief Medical Officer, I can't clear him to return to work until I know he is better. But he's never going to talk to me, and I honestly shouldn't have expected him to."

Another feeling emerged when he mentioned Worf… not quite the full fledged jealousy that Worf accused him of but there was something and it was complicated.

"Why won't he talk to you?" she asked.

Julian laughed nervously, "Opening up about his emotions isn't exactly Worf's thing. And when it comes to Jadzia, there's no way."

"He mentioned to me that you had feelings for Jadzia."

Dr. Bashir's eyes widened and his mouth gaped. He swallowed hard before speaking, "Did he?"

That was all the confirmation she needed, "I imagine this has not been easy for you, either."

"No, it has not," Julian rubbed his hand over his face, "I play that day over and over in my head. I shouldn't have been the one to operate on her, we were too close. But who else could I trust? She'd been on my table before and I've saved her life more than once. Just a few months ago, in fact. Jadzia was injured on a mission she and Worf were on together. He threw the whole mission just to bring her back here so I could save her life. And I did. And it ended up being all for nothing. I've lost people before, but never..."

"Never someone you loved." Deanna finished his sentence for him.

"When we first met all those years ago, I was infatuated with her the way any young man would have been. I'd never met anyone like her, but I was young an awkward and," he chuckled, "She didn't exactly feel the same way. And then Worf came and I didn't stand a chance. I think she was as infatuated with Worf as I had been with her."

Now she was getting somewhere, "Where did that leave you?"

"We were friends, great friends. She knew I had feelings for her but she never made it an issue or made me feel bad about it. So of course I love her for that even more. And I came to respect what she had with Worf. They were… intense. I have never seen two people so obsessively devoted to one another. They were like a star that burns so hot it can't possibly be stable. It's no wonder that her death has left him like this."

"Doctor, Worf briefly mentioned a child… was she pregnant?"

Julian shook his head, "No, but they wanted a baby. She stayed behind on DS9 to start some fertility treatments while Worf went with the invasion task force. The treatments were working and I told her they could start trying as soon as he got home. Then Jadzia, eternal scientist, decided to go into the Bajoran temple for the first time in al these years to thank the gods and…" his voice trailed off and he quickly wiped a tear from his eyes. Deanna knew the rest.

"You know, I think you could benefit from talking through these feelings with someone as well,' she said.

He shook his head quickly and stood, "No, but thank you Counselor, I'll be alright. We have to find a way to help Worf. If he doesn't recover from this," his eyes were far away and a wry smile formed in the corner of his mouth, "Jadzia would never forgive me."

 _ **PLEASE RATE AND REVIEW! WHAT DO YOU THINK IT WILL TAKE TO GET WORF ON THE PATH TO HEALING?**_


	4. Chapter 4

" **Grief"**

 **By: Ginomo**

 _Takes place during and in the direct aftermath of "Tears of the Prophets" with a few flashback scenes to events earlier in Worf's life. A scene I wrote in my story "Zhin'tara" inspired this one. 20 years of writing Worf and Dax fanfic and I have never taken on the days following her death. So, here it is!_

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

"Listen to me, Worf, and do exactly as I say. No matter what you hear, or what you see, you stay as quiet as you can. When it's all over, Father and I will come for you."

Worf looked up at his mother's face, his eyes wide, "I am not afraid. I will fight-"

There was a pounding at the door. The sounds of disrupter blasts and screams were coming from outside, "I know you are not afraid, my brave son, I know. But you must do as I say, do you understand?"

Another pound at the door. Worf nodded, "Yes, Mother."

She opened a storage hatch in the wall, "Climb in, son, hurry."

Worf did as he was told. His mother took one last look at her firstborn son and forced herself to smile. Everyone had always told her that she was too soft, too easy on the boy, but she couldn't help it, "You have always been such a good boy," she kissed his forehead ridges, "I love you, Worf."

The hatch closed. Worf could hear the door to their home come crashing open.

"How many are in here?" Worf heard a voice he didn't know.

"There is only me. My husband and son are not here."

"She's a lying whore, just like all the rest of these animals. Search the house," the voice said.

Worf could hear people walking around and breaking things. Were they looking for him?

"Why are you here? What do you want?" Worf's mother demanded. She sounded so brave. He was scared, but wished he could be brave like her.

"The house is empty, Commander," another voice said.

"What do we want?" the first voice replied, "For all you Klingon vermin to die."

Worf heard blasts. Then the men laughed. Then he heard the door close and it was quiet. His mother had told him to stay quiet and to not come out no matter what he heard. She told him that he was a good boy. He wanted to be a good boy.

He waited and waited but no one came. It was dark in there and the silence made him feel alone and scared. Finally, Worf opened the door to the tiny space where he was hiding. All his family's things had been broken.

He took a few steps and then he saw his mother. She was lying on the floor, her eyes were open but she didn't look awake. There was a big dark burn on the center of her dress.

"Mother?" Worf asked quietly. She didn't answer. Worf's father told him that a Klingon warrior should look upon death without fear.

"Mother?" he touched her but she did not move. Worf's father also told him that a warrior never cried.

Worf was not yet a warrior. He was only six years old and he was alone and afraid. Worf curled his body next to his mother's and cried.

* * *

Counselor Troi had been on Deep Space 9 for a few days and had met with her "patient" a handful of times. And in that time she hadn't made a bit of progress. Well, he had at least started showering again so that was something. She talked, asked questions, was direct, was indirect, was chatty and was quiet. He grunted, stayed silent, humored her for a few minutes, then disappeared into his room. She'd had reluctant patients before and prided herself on being able to get them to open up. So what was different about this one? Why was she having such a hard time with someone she'd known for so long?

As she was getting ready that morning the computer alerted her that a transmission was coming through for her. She sat at her desk, activated the monitor, and put on her best smile when she saw the face before her.

"Commander, what can I do for you?"

"Commander, huh?" Will Riker asked slyly.

"Well, I only assumed this was an official call to check on my progress."

"It is, partially. The Enterprise will be in the Bajoran sector in three days. Will you be finished with your work by then?"

"I don't know..." she paused, "No, no I won't be."

"Then you will have to give Worf's care over to the station's counselor because you are needed back here."

"They don't have a counselor, Will, you know that."

"I'm sorry to hear that but you are needed here," he said again, "After this, the Enterprise is heading on a trajectory that won't bring us anywhere near this area for a month at least."

"Then I request a leave of absence."

Will frowned, "You can't treat Worf, or anyone else for that matter, if you're on leave from Starfleet."

Now it was her turn to frown, "Why did you really call me?"

He sighed, "Even light years away, I can't get anything passed you…"

"No, you can't."

"I'm worried about you," Commander Riker admitted.

"You said that before I left," Deanna quipped.

"I still am, and not just because of the war. This is a volatile situation to put yourself in, Deanna, and I can't believe you can't see that. How can you be objective with Worf in a time like this? How can you help him get over his wife when you still aren't over him?"

Deanna drew in a sharp breath, "Excuse me?"

"You can't get anything passed me either, Imzadi."

Her heart was racing. She was furious, insulted and embarrassed all at the same time, "I will be ready when the Enterprise gets here in three days, Commander. Troi out." With a shaky hand, Deanna ended the transmission. Troi took several deep breaths to calm herself, she felt like he'd stripped her naked and exposed her for everyone to see. And the worst part was, William Riker was right.

* * *

Alexander had been smart to send for Deanna Troi, he knew his father would never be able to bring himself to toss her out the way he would anyone else. Worf had done his best to be as inhospitable as he could but she wasn't getting the message. He wanted to be left alone, he didn't want to ever have to talk to or look at another person again. But now she was back. Worf opened the door and let her in, but didn't bother saying anything to her. He wondered how much longer it would be until she grew tired of this and let him alone.

"I got a call from Commander Riker this morning," Deanna said as she entered. Casually, she walked over to his replicator, ordered herself a drink and sat on the couch, "You'll never guess what he thinks about all this."

Worf frowned, "About _all this_?"

She nodded, sipping her hot chocolate and doing her best to play it cool, "About me being here and trying to 'treat' you."

Worf said nothing. But he hadn't turned and left the room, which for him was something.

"He thinks I can't effectively help you," she paused, summoning the courage to see her plan through, "Because I haven't gotten over my feelings for you."

Since watching Jadzia die suddenly and tragically, Worf didn't think he was capable of being shocked. But to hear Counselor Troi acknowledge the proverbial 'elephant in the room' was a little unsettling, "What do you think?" he asked quietly.

"I think he might be right. I have made absolutely no progress with you so something must be in the way. Things between us ended rather… ambiguously. You were obviously able to move on and I was happy for you. But he might be right."

Worf stood there, looking down at this woman, not quite sure what to think. Was she really trying to have this conversation now? Did she really want to talk about their relationship when his wife had only just died? Then again, she wasn't wrong. There were a lot of things between them that were left unsaid, and instead of truly addressing them, Worf moved on.

"You and I have seen one other since we...parted."

"Fighting the Borg for the survival of the entire quadrant is hardly the time to work through our feelings for one other. Besides, you were already with Jadzia by that time anyway."

"Perhaps you should consider yourself fortunate. Had you stayed with me, you would have ended up dead."

Worf turned from Deanna and headed for his beloved crate of blood wine. He threw open the lid and stood over the crate looking down into it. Deanna walked over to him and looked in as well. There was only one bottle left.

"Was the crate full when you started?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Where did you get all this wine?"

His voice was quiet and low, "Jadzia ordered it for our wedding. I told her it was too much, we were only having a small affair in Quark's. When it was over we had this whole crate left. She said we'd save it and have a party to celebrate when the war was over."

Deanna carefully reached in and took out the last bottle. She placed it in Worf's hands. His fingers lightly grazed the surface and he read the words written in Klingon, " _in'cha mok par'Machkai._ "

"What does it mean?"

Worf sighed, "Our love begins. She had it inscribed on all the bottles."

"Do you want to open it?"

"This is the last of it."

This was the most the two of them had spoken since she came to the station, so maybe this naked honesty was working, "You have suffered a lot of loss. I cannot begin to know what that has been like for you."

Still gripping the bottle and with his eyes transfixed on it, Worf stumbled over to his couch and sat. He continued to stare at it, saying nothing at first. Then, very quietly, "Do you know how Sergey Rozhenko, my human father, found me all those years ago?

"No, no I don't..."

Worf let out a breath, "I was curled up next to my mother's body. She was dead and I was clutching her and sobbing, not truly understanding. He had to pry me away from her, kicking and screaming. Over the years when people asked me about the attack on Khitomer I have always said that I did not remember anything. But I do. I remember everything."

Deanna listened without saying anything.

He continued, "I remember K'Ehleyr. I remember holding her in my arms, shaking her body, trying to will it back to life. I remember howling in grief, not just because I knew it was the thing we Klingons did, but because I was devastated."

A long pause.

"And now, I remember Jadzia. I remember standing there, paralyzed with denial. It could not be happening again. Not again," another pause, "Not again."

The cloud of grief that shrouded Worf when Deanna first came to DS9 was descending over him once more. Instinctively, she sat down next to him. He continued speaking, his eyes fixed on the bottle, "Every woman I have loved has died before me. They loved me and they paid the ultimate price for it," he finally looked at Deanna, his eyes were haunting "And you would have as well. Consider yourself fortunate that I could not be the the man you needed."

The pain was overwhelming. She had to stop it, she had to fix it, to help him somehow. Tenderly, Deanna reached up and stroked Worf's hair, "I'm here now, Worf. Let me help you, please. Tell me what it is that you need."

And just like that, he was kissing her. His mouth pressed against hers with a desperate abandon. Everything inside of Deanna Troi told her this was absolutely wrong, but none of that mattered as her hands reached up to grip his broad shoulders and pull him closer. Worf's strong arms pulled her into him as their embrace continued. With each moment, she could feel his grief fade away as his desire took its place. Was this helping him? What this what he needed? There was no mistaking that it was what _she_ needed.

Will was right. He was right and this was wrong. This was no way to treat a patient, but right now Worf wasn't her patient. He was a man she'd once been, and probably still was, attracted to. Maybe even in love with. He was hurting and she could help him even if this was the only way.

As if snapped out of a trance, Worf pulled his lips from hers abruptly and jerked his body away from hers, "Counselor, I… I do not know what happened. I should never have…" he began, stumbling over his words.

She sat up as well, "It' okay, Worf, really."

He stood, "No, it is not," she took a few steps backward and towards the door, stumbling over his feet as well, "I need to go."

Before Deanna could further object, Worf had opened the door to his quarters and disappeared into the corridor.

"Dammit," she cursed under her breath. "Well, at least I got him out of this room."

* * *

It felt like an eternity since the last time Worf was on the Defiant. The ship had been his refuge when he first moved to Deep Space Nine and was honestly his favorite part of working on the station. Jadzia once teased him about being in love with the ship and she had been right. He loved everything about; it's sleek utilitarian design, it's powerful battle capabilities and, most importantly, the fact that Captain Sisko let him command it on a regular basis.

The lights were low since the ship was in a powered down docked mode. This was how it was when he came home in the evenings back when he lived here. Jadzia at first chided him for living on the sterile ship, but in the end she liked escaping to it's privacy as much as he did. Those late nights when the ship was docked and they had it to themselves… Worf smiled at the memory of all the spots they'd 'christened' their own. The Captain's chair was her favorite.

Worf stepped onto the dark bridge. The last time he was here was when he got the news that she was hurt. Never in a million years did he think that it would have ended up like this. He was supposed to die first, perhaps in a glorious battle that would make her proud. Or maybe after a lifetime together with their children beside her. But not now. Not when they were just beginning. And not like this. Worf managed to bring himself to read the reports but he still didn't fully understand what happened to her. Dukat was possessed by some Bajoran spirit and somehow destroyed the wormhole and killed Jadzia in the process. She deserved so much better. He should have been there to defend her, or if nothing else to avenge her. Dukat was long gone to who knew where and his crimes were so many that there was a long line of people waiting to plunge a sword into him.

Worf slowly sat in her pilot's chair and ran his hands over the controls, as if touching them was like touching her. "She should have been here," he whispered to himself. If she had died on the Defiant, it would have been fitting the woman she was and he could have been with her when it happened. That she lied there on that floor all alone… it was more than he could stand.

His near caressing of Jadzia control panel caused it to blink to life. Aimlessly he began going through the file database, not looking for anything in particular. It was mostly a collection of sensor logs, flight plans and mission reports that she'd filed over the years. He was about to turn it off when one file caught his eye. The title simply read, _Secured file- Lieutenant Commander Worf_. He hesitated for a long while before tapping the file to open it.

" _Security clearance required_." The computer chirped.

The file was in his name so he guessed his clearance would work, "Commander Worf, Gamma 9271."

" _Location for visual playback_?"

Worf thought a moment, "Main view screen."

In seconds, Jadzia face filled the bridge's view screen. It was startling to see her there, as if it had been years instead of… how long had it been? Ten days? Ten days since his wife drew her last breath. Now she was there before him, it looked like she was in her crew quarters on the Defiant. She was wearing her uniform with her hands tightly folded on the desk she sat at. She looked straight ahead, right through him like he wasn't even there. Worf sat there just staring at her for ages.

"Computer," his voice cracked just a bit. He cleared his throat, "Computer, begin playback."

The image of his wife came to life.

"So this is one of those things they teach us to do in the Academy, especially at times like this. Last week when I got some spare time, I updated the one for my parents. When I saved it into the Defiant's computer, I realized that I didn't have one for you," she smiled, "And seeing that we're getting married I guess that makes you my family too. Then I lay awake at night trying to think of what to say… I never figured it out so I'm just going to ramble. After the wedding, I'll make a better one. But with the way things are, you on the Rotarran and me here on the Defiant," her face sobered, "I need to do this."

She paused, took a deep breath, and continued, "If you're seeing this, it means that somehow this war got the best of me and our life together ended before we even got a chance to really get started. And the idea of that breaks my heart," Jadzia quickly wiped away a tear before it fell, "Because I really want a life with you. I really want to be your wife," she laughed a little through her tears, "That's crazy isn't it? Me of all people? But you've changed my life. Everything I thought I knew went right out the airlock when I met you two years ago in Quark's. I have always had everything figured out. Every step of my life has been carefully thought out, planned, measured… and then you."

Worf was transfixed. It was as if his body was fused to the chair, he was mesmerized by everything he was hearing and hung on every word this recording was saying.

"Okay, focus Jadzia. So here I am trying to figure out how to say goodbye and I don't know how to do that. I don't know how to say the thing that will make it okay that you're there trying to put together the pieces of a life that never really got started." She took a deep breath, "I know you have been through a lot in your life. You've had more than your share of sorrows and just the idea that I am adding to that… I love you so much. …" Jadzia stopped and quickly swiped a tear from her cheek , "Just the idea is making me emotional. I guess most of all I'm just really worried about what my death, especially now, would do to you. Isn't that conceited of me?" she asked with a small laugh through her tears, "But you said something when you were here. You said that I'd changed your life."

Worf remembered. It was one of the times the Rotarran and the Defiant rendezvoused and he got to visit Jadzia. They were fortunate to be able to see one another amidst a war, they both knew that each time could be their last. He'd whispered it her right after they'd finished getting 're-acquainted' with one another.

"So I don't think it's a stretch to say that our relationship has had an affect on you- on me as well. Loving you has been crazy, but it's been amazing. Watching you open yourself up to that love, seeing you let down that nearly impenetrable guard of yours has been such a joy for me. And I sincerely hope that losing me doesn't cause you to put it right back up. Please don't let what we had be in vain. However short our time together ends up being doesn't matter," she stopped and sighed, "Ugh, I'm rambling. I've got to do this over-" Jadzia leaned forward, touched something Worf couldn't see, and disappeared.

"Jadzia!" Worf called as he reached his hand out towards the screen. But then he let his hand fall. It wasn't real. And it was over. He sat there, his heart pounding in his ears.

"Computer, are there any other files such as this left by Jadzia Dax?"

" _Please clarify,_ " the computer answered

"Messages! For me!" Worf barked.

" _Negative_."

Jadzia never got around to making another, she probably thought she had time. The bridge was deathly silent while Worf tried to process what he'd just seen. Worf played the message three more times, trying to burn every word into his memory. He then transferred the file into his own database.

Worf stood finally and walked off the bridge of the Defiant. " _Please don't let what we had be in vain._ " He owed it to Jadzia to get back to his life. As much as he wanted to crawl into a hole and die he could not, and not for himself but for her. He could not dishonor her or the memory of their life together no matter how short it had been.

When he got back to his quarters on the station, Counselor Troi was gone. Worf decided he'd deal with that later and finally give them the closure he should have years ago. Right now, he took the last bottle of his wedding blood wine and placed it on the shelf with all Jadzia's other things. Then, Worf contacted Major Kira and told her that he'd be reporting to duty the next day.

He'd given himself time to grieve but it was indeed time for him to start putting himself back together. It would probably be one of the hardest things he'd ever done but, for better or worse, Worf had gotten used to picking up the pieces of his life. Ironically, it was Jadzia who'd been the one to show him that.


	5. Chapter 5

" **Grief"**

 **By: Ginomo**

 _Takes place during and in the direct aftermath of "Tears of the Prophets" with a few flashback scenes to events earlier in Worf's life. A scene I wrote in my story "Zhin'tara" inspired this one. 20 years of writing Worf and Dax fanfic and I have never taken on the days following her death. So, here it is!_

* * *

 **Epilogue**

The room felt cold. Her body was covered with a thin blanket but she still felt chilled. Dax blinked her eyes a few times trying to focus. She was in… the infirmary? She turned her head to the side and could see lights flickering on a panel. To the other side there were people she didn't recognize. No, this was not the infirmary, this looked different. But it was definitely some type of sickbay. Where was she? Perhaps Julian had needed to transport her to another station. She remembered her eyes briefly fluttering open when Dr. Bashir rushed to her side as she lay on the floor of the Bajoran Temple.

" _Jadzia? Can you hear me? What happened?" he'd asked frantically as he began scanning her._

" _Dukat…" she managed to barely whisper._

That was the last thing she remembered. Now she was lying on a biobed in some strange sick bay. Her head was pounding; Dax reached up and placed a weary hand on her forehead. As she did, her fingers unexpectedly grazed locks of short hair that hung across her face.

"What the…" Dax ran both her hands over her head to find that it was nearly all gone. Had they cut her hair? Why would they have to do that?

Something wasn't right. She brought her hands down to eye level and gasped. These were not her hands.

"Oh no, no this can't be happening…"

She motioned to sit and felt a dull ache in her abdomen. Dax tossed the covers back to reveal legs that were not her own. Her breathing was panicked and ragged as she yanked the gown she was wearing up and found the scar across her belly. The scar that had healed years ago was as fresh as the day she received the Dax symbiont from Curzon.

"No. No, please no…"

Dax stood and nearly fell over as she did. She could barely balance on feet that were foreign to her and legs that were much shorter. As she stumbled around the room looking for a mirror, someone entered.

"Doctor! She's awake!" the man yelled, sounding as frantic as she felt.

"What the hell is going on?" The biting menace in the words were hers, but the voice was not.

The man held out his hands protectively, "Please, um, Dax, please get back in bed."

"Not until you tell me what's happened. Am I in a new host? Is Jadzia," she swallowed a lump in her throat and felt tears well in her eyes, "Is Jadzia dead"

The man looked around as if wanting someone else to answer. Finally, two others came into the room, "Dax, please, we need you to calm down. This is all best explained if you're calm."

"Is she dead!?"

The two new people exchanged glances. The second one spoke, "Yes, she is."

Dax thought she might collapse, "This can't be. Dr. Bashir, where is he?"

"Nurse, prepare a hypo of inaprovaline to calm her," the first one said.

"No!" Dax demanded. "I'm calm. Just tell me what's going on?"

"Do you know who we are? What's the last thing you remember?"

"I have no idea who you are. The last thing I remember is lying on the floor, Dr. Bashir was helping me. I'd been shot. Where are you taking me?"

"Please sit," the man took her arm and pretty much forced her back on the biobed. This body was nowhere near as strong as Jadzia's, she could do nothing to resist, "I'm Dr. Mendelson and this is Counselor Pyvek. Your name," more exchanged glances and deep sighs, "Your name is Ensign Ezri Dax. You are the ninth host to the Dax symbiont. Your previous host, Jadzia Dax, died several days ago."

Dax shook her head, "I have changed hosts many times and it has never felt like this. There is no _Ezri_ here," she spat the name out like a curse

The counselor had a padd in her hand and was scrolling furiously, "Well, they told us there might be some complications due to the nature of your joining. The previous host personality has completely suppressed the new one. We are on our way to Trill now, the people at the symbiosis comision should be able to help you better integrate and train you on how to be a host."

"Train me?"

"I really don't want to say too much, they cautioned that it would only confuse you further."

Her head was throbbing, she placed her hands on her temples and winced. The doctor motioned to give her a hypo but she waved him off. She wanted all her wits about her.

"Where is Worf?"

More exchanged glances.

"Would you two stop looking at each other and answer my questions!"

"We aren't trying to upset you, you're just behaving very differently than we're used to," the Doctor replied. "I'm sure this must be very disorienting. Let us put you into stasis until we get to Trill."

"I need to know where my husband is. You called me Ensign, that means I'm a Starfleet Officer and I have rights. I need to speak to Lieutenant Commander Worf immediately. There is no way he'd allow this to happen."

"Commander Worf, Jadzia's husband, is back on Deep Space Nine. There is nothing for him to allow, Ezri," Counselor Pyvek was doing her best to sounds as comforting as she could, "His wife died and her symbiont was sent to Trill for a new host, a completely normal part of a joined Trill's life cycle. You should not be experiencing Jadzia's personality so intensely, and it's for your own sake that we are asking to put you into stasis. I'm worried that Ezri may never emerge at the rate."

Tears were flowing down her new cheeks and she didn't even bother to wipe them away. She didn't give a damn about Ezri, "Did he get to see her? To say goodbye? I can't just leave him alone, he won't be able to handle it…"

"According to Dr. Bashir's report, after he removed the Dax symbiont Commander Worf was able to see his wife and the two spoke before she…" he let his voice trailed off, "That's probably why you don't remember it."

Dax lied back on the biobed, the tears still falling, "I can't… This can't…" she whispered over and over. The doctor looked to the counselor who nodded her head in silent agreement. Dax felt the cool touch of the hypospray press into her neck as the room around her slowly went dark.

* * *

~finis

September 16, 2018

 _ **PLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO REVIEW AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! THANKS FOR READING :)**_


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